God Broke The Mold
by Chelsea Oz
Summary: An in-progress AU. Jem survived his heart attack and goes through the events of GSAW with Scout as they happen. Kind of going out on a limb here but I hope you will join me and enjoy! Last chapter, guys!
1. Chapter 1

Waiting in a car in the middle of summer in Maycomb, Alabama is no fun. The dog days around here mean scorchers, hot enough to burn the hair off the dog's back. Hank, my friend and my little sister's lover, is kicking back in the driver's seat with me in shotgun. The sweat is pouring off me so furiously that I take out a hankercheif and begin to rub the pool that had started on my chest.

"You feelin' all right?" Hank asked me.

"Yeah, man. Just sweatin', that's all."

"Just thought I'd ask."

"Ah Jesus, Hank! Y'all need to calm down; my heart attack was six months ago."

"Scared the shit out of all of us, though. The doctor said if I'd waited a few more minutes you would not be here."

"I know what the fucking doctor said, Hank. Guess what though? Here I am!" I said as I threw my sweaty hankerchief at him. I get so fucking annoyed when anyone brings up my heart attack. Yes, it was horrible and I know that people that care for me were concerned but I'm okay. I hate that all my loved ones sit back and just look at me like they are waiting for the next one. I got too much to live for; I've got my law career running high and I've got a girl that I'm going to marry soon. Despite my own health issues, my father's health issues, and my barely glued family, I'd say that life's been good to me so far.

"Hey, here she is," Hank said, getting all wide-eyed and giddy at the thought she was finally here.

"Yup," I say, grinning to myself at how much of a fool he was for my sister. Especially considering how much she could treat him like shit sometimes. He runs out of the car to go meet her while I take my time. The first sight I see is them kissing as soon as she gets off the train. I can already tell that my sister is embarrassed and betting money that she is telling him to knock it off.

"Barf!" I yell with a laugh. Jean begins to laugh herself as she sprints towards me and jumps into my arms.

"Barf at your face, asshole," she whispers in my ear. That gets us laughing again; I swear we have the weirdest and crudest brother/sister relationship ever.

"Barf at both of you," Hank said as he put Jean's bag in the trunk. Jean kisses my cheek and I kiss hers back as we head back into the car. Being the good brother that I am, I get in the backseat so she can sit next to her lover. I just hope they remember I'm back there because I really don't need them getting intimate on me.

It was a good ride at the beginning; they just talked about cars for the first part of the run. Jean Louise hated driving even though she was good at it and Hank lived for bigger, better cars. Then she wanted him to tell the ridiculous story of the scar on his face he got from the war. I didn't mind hearing it again because it was one of my favorites, too. Then Hank asked her how New York was and a few seconds later the inevitable happened:

"Give me a free hand for these two weeks and I'll make you tired of it."

Oh my God, I could live the rest of my life comfortably without hearing that. I can't even deal with what goes on after that so I just bang my head off the car window in hopes of knocking myself out. What could have turned into a serious argument or a serious love-making turned into them looking at me and laughing. Sure enough, they had forgotten I was back here.

"Now you know how I feel," Jean Louise said to me with a shit-eating smirk.

"Me and Sara Ann are never that bad," I protest.

"Sure," Hank and and Jean reply together. They just laugh and kiss each other in front of me just to piss me off.

"Shitheads!" I say with slaps for both of them.

"You love us though," Jean said matter-of-factly.

"God broke the mold when he made you, Jean Louise," I tell her; no lie.

"I bet he smiled, though," Jean Louise replied. I bet he did, sweet, I bet he did.


	2. Changes

I wonder how hard it is for Jean Louise to come back here even though it's only for a short period of time. Home definitely isn't home anymore, even for me. Atticus didn't want to live in our old house on Alabama Avenue anymore since I came home from the war. I asked him why but I never really got a straight answer from him. I knew that Miss Rachel's house burnt down while I was away and she went down with it. I also knew that Miss Maudie had fell ill and died shortly before D-Day. Atticus is a seventy-two year old now and I would have to say that all that mortality was beginning to grab him by the balls. Our new house is very new in every sense of the word. Atticus seemed to really like it and as far as I'm concerned if he's happy, I'm happy.

Calpurnia is no longer with us, either. She's not dead in the biblical sense but she's dead to me. When I had my heart attack she gave up on us so I had long since given up on her. She was the closest thing to a mother I had since my own mother died at the age of six. I don't understand how a woman can help raise you and then turn her back on you when things looked grim. Then again, Atticus, my own father, has done a lot of things I can't believe but he would never, ever abandon his children when we needed him. I have a whole new appreciation for my Aunt Alexandra for stepping up to the plate and helping take care of Atticus like she does.

"Here we are," Hank announces as we pull up in the driveway.

"Good!" Jean Louise shreiks happily.

"Now, Jean," I say, grabbing a hold of her shoulder. "Don't start with Aunty, okay?"

"As long as she doesn't start with me."

"Come on," I groan as she gets out of the car. Aunt Alexandra and Jean Louise are like fire and ice, they just don't mix. I'll be the first one to tell you that my sister's no saint but Aunt Alexandra likes to create her own storms and then cry to Atticus cause it rains. I climb out of the car and sprint up the steps to catch up with Hank. I always liked a good shitshow.

"Hey, Atticus," Jean says as she hugs him. His rheumatoid arthritis is really starting to kick his ass and when he tried to return my sister's hug it almost made me hurt.

"Jean Louise," I hear Aunt Alexandra pipe up. "Did you really come down here dressed like that?"

Oh no, here we go. Aunty's favorite past time has been harrassing my sister about how she looked. As far as I'm concerned, I think she looks great. Jean has really slimmed down again since adolescence and she can pull of a tank top and slacks just fine. The thing I always found funny was the way she criticized everyone else but she has failed to realize how ridiculous those corsets look. There's no way her watermelon tits could natually sit on her chest like that and she has an ass big enough to serve tea on. God, why am I thinking about am I thinking about that?

"Good Lord, Aunty, Maycomb knows I didn't wear anything but overalls till I started having the curse-"

Jesus, like I needed to think of that, too. I'm definitely leaving early if this is how it's going to be.

"That'll do, Scout," Atticus piped up. "Apologize to your aunt. Don't start a row the minute you get home."

"Girl can't help it," I piped up, half-jokingly.

"I'll help you in a minute," Jean said in a non-threatening tone. Hank just stands there smirking like the idiot that he is.

"No need. I think I'll head out."

"We just got here though," Hank finally piped up.

"Yeah, I know. I'll see you around though."

"Gonna go see Sara?"

"Yeah."

"Well, see you later," Jean creeps up beside me to give me a kiss goodbye. I happily return the favor.

"Bye, son," Atticus yells out as I open the door.

"Bye, Atticus," I turn around to answer back. "Bye, Aunty."

I don't hear Aunty respond back to me but it doesn't really matter anyway. I hop into Atticus' car and turn on the ignition. God, I wish I could have a smoke right now. The doctor told me to quit right after my heart attack and I'm doing what I've been told. Not saying it hasn't been hard, though, whenever stressful situations arise I could smoke a whole pack without giving it a thought. I didn't want to think anymore; I just want to see Sara, head out to the Landing, and have a good screw.


	3. My Baby Does The Hanky Panky

Sara Ann Webster is gorgeous: crimson red hair, emerald green eyes and a smile that could light up the world for free. Even more amazing than her looks are her heart and soul. She is smart, she is kind, and she means the world to me. I can't wait to make love to her tonight; she happens to be a great lay if I do say so myself. I ain't much of a gentleman but when a guy's got a woman that blows your mind among other things like Sara can...

"Hey, sweet," she says, climbing her way into the passenger seat.

"Hey," I say, giving her a nice smacker of a kiss. "You got radar or something? I just pulled in thirty seconds ago."

"Maybe I do," she says with a sly smile.

"Want to go out to the Landing and park?"

"Maybe I do."

"We're off to be on, then."

"Definitely."

Atticus doesn't drive anymore; anybody who can drive Atticus wherever he needs to go takes him. I like to listen to the radio but I don't turn it on until we get out of town and into the Landing. Why? My favorite station is the rock n' roll station with the negro music. Elvis Presley and Jerry Lee Lewis are the only white musicians I like because they have that negro feel. I don't know what it is but that music is the best for fucking. _Great Balls of Fire_ was blaring as I had my first orgasm with Sara and I hit nirvana.

"Can't we turn on the radio now?" Sara asks me.

"Not until we pull in," I tell her as I rub her inner thigh.

"Don't get me going," she says, moaning. "You know that gets me going."

"Just warming you up, sweet," I say as we make that crucial turn. Finch's Landing is spectacular and it's a perfect getaway. I don't know how many times I've come up here for some uninterrupted sex. The air is salty and sweet from the river which covers up the smell of must from the old house. I don't know how that house is still standing.

"What about now?" She asks me.

"Go ahead; turn it on."

"I want to turn you on, too."

"You already have, sweet."

The first song that comes on the radio is _Johnny B. Goode_ by Chuck Berry. I laugh devilishly as I think of how Johnny can be good all he wants but I was going to be as bad as I want. I want Sara and how could that possibly be bad? We know each other well enough to just dive in and get what we want out of this. It's not long before our bodies are rocking together in rhythm to the music. We didn't start getting really nasty until Little Richard's _Good Golly Miss Molly_ came on. I swear that man has some kind of voodoo magic in him because I began to see lights. Was I going to heaven? I thought I was already there. We didn't calm down until Elvis' _Love Me Tender_ came on and by that time we were satisfied.

"I love you, Jem," she says, nuzzling up next to me.

"I love you, Sara," I say, kissing her sweet and sweaty cheek.

That was how we stayed for a good while. Elvis sang his sweet song as we just rocked each other. There's nothing like a cuddle after the good deed is over. I looked up at the moon and stars and back down at my naked girl. Life was good until I realized what those lights were: they were the headlights of another car. They had pulled up beside us.

"Oh shit," I say, as I cover Sara up.

"Someone's here!" Sara shreiked.

"Oh my God!"

"What? Do you know those people?"

"Yeah, it's Hank and my sister," I say. They had gotten out of the car just to see me and her in the backseat. Me and Sara could have died when they finally spotted us. Hank looked about as embarrassed as we did but Jean just smirked.

"You're all wet," I tell my sister. She was soaked; she must have taken a dip like a fool.

"I bet Sara's more so than I."

"Oh my God!" Sara cried as she cradled her face in her hands.

"Real smooth, sis," I tell her as I rub Sara's back.

"Oh like I was never in this prediciment, ever! You're okay, Sara. I won't tell on ya and Jem knows I wouldn't."

"Your Aunty is going to kill all of us tomorrow morning," Hank said.

"Who's going to tell?" Jean asks as she punches his arm.

"Nobody," Hank replied.

"Right," Jean said as she patted his back. "I mean it, Sara. Yours and Jem's rendezvous is safe with me as long as mine and Hank's is with yours."

"You're the best, Jean," Sara says, finally managing a smile.

"I try."


	4. Sound of Silence

Talk about an awkward ride back home. Me and Sara got ourselves dressed, hopped into the front seats and followed Hank and Jean back into town. I don't think Sara and I said a word to each other as I drove her back to her house. I heard her exhale loudly a few times but I think that was about it. It wasn't until we were in her parents driveway when she finally kissed me and spoke up.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Honey, we did nothing wrong. Jean doesn't think anything of it, I swear."

"It's not her I'm worried about. I think your sister's cool but that Hank's got a shady side. We both know that."

It was my turn to exhale loudly. Yes, he was still my friend but Sara is right about him having a shady side. Henry Clinton is a born politician in every slimy sense of the word. He could hide it better when he was a kid. He worked his butt off for everything he had but he always had the victim attitude about it that I didn't find sickening until I had gotten older and the war had just begun. War brings out the bastard in every guy who ever dares to enlist. Things just got worse when we came home; Hank did everything he could to be Atticus FInch. I love my father very much but I realize more than ever how much it's gotta suck to be inside of his skin. It wasn't until I worked with Atticus that I realized how much of a battlefield his mind really was. I definitely don't agree with the way he thinks a lot of the time anymore but I've learned to have compassion for the poor old guy.

"Jem," Sara says, patting my arm. My mind definitely wandered way too far.

"Sorry, I was thinking about Atticus. It's hard not to think about Hank without thinking about Atticus, too."

"I think it's sad that you are in competition with Hank because of him."

"I am in competition with no one, Sara. I am my own lawyer with my own ideals. I can separate myself from Atticus and survive while Hank is attached to his hip and wouldn't know his ass from third base without him."

That makes Sara laugh and I can't help but laugh with her. She's got an amazing cackle that could make anyone forget they were sad in the first place. I draw her close to me and give her temple a kiss.

"Time for bed, young lady," I said, jokingly.

"I can't wait to have sex in a bed rather than the backseat of the car," she says, making her way out.

"After we're married, sweet."

"I love you."

"I love you, too," I say as I blow her a kiss. She catches it and runs up the steps like a little schoolgirl. I drive out of the driveway, laughing all the way. Not at Sara but at myself; what a high moral compass I have thinking that as long as you're not having sex in a bed it's not premarital sex. I check the radio to make sure I didn't have in on rock n' roll anymore and sure enough I did. Oh my God if Aunty ever got in the car and listened to it! Then again Rock Around The Clock by Bill Haley and the Comets was playing and they are the whitest dudes to ever try the genre. Seriously, they are as pathetic as my Uncle Jack has become.

I yawn loudly as I pull into the house that ain't home. I slam the car door and walk up the steps that lead into the living room. I could almost spit at the staircase everytime I look at it. Sure Atticus would want a house with stairs as soon as he's crippled with arthritis.

"Hey," Jean whispers out to me as I finally reach the top. Her bedroom for the time being is the spare room, first door on the left.

"Hey," I say as I squeak the door open.

"Remember the revival?"

"Oh my God," I throw my head back and laugh. "Yeah."

"That was a good day, wasn't it?"

"Yeah, now that we can look back and laugh about it."

"Goodnight, Jem."

"Goodnight, sweet."

I laugh all the way back to my room. I think about Dill being the holy ghost as I get undressed. Funny, I think, how he went from the holy ghost to pretty much becoming one...


	5. What Hurts The Most

"Get ready," Jean Louise knocked on my door.

"Shit," I replied, yawning myself awake. "It's Sunday."

"Let me in Jem," she said, annoyed.

"Who's stopping you?"

She walked in looking like hammered shit: her hair looked like it hadn't been combed in a week, she had bags under her eyes and the rest of her eyes were bloodshot.

"Did you get drunk last night?" I asked.

"I didn't," she said in an off-guard manner. She totally did; my sister can get drunk looking at a bottle of Jack Daniels let alone actually drinking it.

"You look like you need one."

"No, I don't!"

Then she hit me with a pillow. She got me good in the eye, the little bitch. With my good eye, I grab another pillow from behind me and chuck it at her. I hit her square in the stomach and clutches herself.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," she said as she sat on the floor next to my bed. "I'm sorry about your eye. I didn't think I whipped it that hard."

"It's all right," I said as I reached down to rub my sister's head. "What's bugging ya?"

"Sara's aunt caught me and Hank swimming last night and spreading all over town that we were naked."

"Were you?"

"No. It was just a stupid dare to jump in with our clothes on. All I had was a little of Hank's set up with water. I'm pathetic; I get drunk off of alcohol flavored water."

"I've never seen anything like it," I chuckle.

"You know, Jem," she says, standing up again. "I don't get why it's me that's the topic of gossip especially as there were two cars there last night."

"That's cause Mary knows me and Sara going parking all the time."

"Wait, she knows? She knows and she's okay with it?"

"Sara can do no wrong in her eyes. Mary could breastfeed her quick as look at her if she could."

For the first time in forever my sister is speechless. She wants to speak so bad but the words don't want to come out. I'm like a ticking time bomb over here because I want to laugh so hard but I know she would kill me.

"Shut up!" She finally shrieks.

"I didn't say anything!" I blurt out in defense of myself.

"Take that smirk off your face!"

"Hey," Atticus knocks on the door. "What's going on in there?"

"She's ready to kill somebody because of crazy Mary Webster."

"Oh, sweet," Atticus says. "You know you can't kill people especially on Sundays."

Well that's it, I just lose my cool and laugh hysterically. I never realized until I got older how funny Atticus actually was. Jean's fists clench and tears are actually brewing in her eyes. Atticus finally opens the door as she storms out of it but Atticus grabs her by the back of the neck and actually gets her back in here.

"Baby, it's all right," he says as he tried to hug her. He's actually doing a good job this morning with his hands.

"I hate Maycomb and its people," she mumbles, returning his hug.

"This town and its people are no different then when you left them."

"Don't remind me," she says, letting him go while she kisses him and tries to smile.

"You're all right, baby. Go get ready for Sunday School."

My sister shuts up again and does as she's told. I don't say a word until I hear her door shut and I look at Atticus. Atticus looks at me and I'm sure he's thinking what I'm thinking.

"She gets hurt easily these days, doesn't she?" I ask in a whisper.

"She'll get over it," he says as he walks away from me. He doesn't even bother shutting the door. I get out of bed and watch him walk down the hall. I don't think he even realized how bad he's hurting Jean without her even realizing it. The day she finds out what Atticus Finch is really made of is what's going to hurt her the most. If I know her, she will go down to the goddamn meeting because she's curious as fuck. How do I know how much it hurts to watch our father in one of those meanings? I was a special guest at one of those meetings when I had my heart attack.


	6. Take Me To Church

My Uncle Jack is nuttier than squirrell shit. He was a brilliant doctor who is now just your run-of-the-mill madman. Everyone knows he's a first class alcoholic but he's been that way for years. One of my earliest memories is after mama died: it was Christmas time and my Uncle Jack was so drunk and so distraught that he banged Jean's head off the car door while helping Atticus get her out of the car. I think it's funny because now she can never get into a car without banging her head off the door. I think in all his despair then that he cast some evil spell on her and cars because they just don't mix.

Now that the four of us have met Uncle Jack here and we've now taken our seats, I'm glad we're here. I don't think I've ever told anyone why I don't mind going to church: it's because it's the one time I'm free to think about mama. I hope she knows that this one hour a week I dedicate to her. I hope she knows that every prayer I silently say and every hymn I quietly sing is all in her memory. I've never stopped thinking about you or loving you, mama. I hope to God that somewhere you are thinking of me, too.

During the sermon, I glance at all the people taking turns glaring at my sister. Jean doesn't seem to notice it or she's so used to it that she doesn't pay any mind to it anymore. I think it's sad either way and when she turns to look at me I make sure I smile at her. I think she knew what I was trying to do because she flashed me a smile that said "thank you." I take my sister's hand and she takes it as she gives mine a gentle squeeze. Aunt Alexandra snuffs at the sight of us but I really don't care what Miss Nice-Christian thinks. I happen to look back at Atticus who was right behind us and he gave me a wink. No matter how old I get, I will never be too old for a good-boy wink.

"That service stunk!" Uncle Jack said loudly as church was over and we were outside. God, he was embarrassing.

"Now, brother, that is quite enough already," Aunt Alexandra disproves in a whisper.

"I don't care, Zandra..."

He can go on and on forever but I push Jean in the opposite direction. I can tell she is resisting me but I think she trusts me enough to know that this is best for her.

"I actually wanted to hear that," she tells me.

"It's nothing," I say with my hands still on her shoulders. "Believe me; that guy loves nothing more than to make himself look like the damn fool that he is. Want some ice cream?"

"Ice cream? Where'd that come from?"

"Our old house got turned into an ice cream parlor."

"I knew that already."

"Have you been there yet?"

"No."

"Come on, then. I'm paying, don't argue."

"I'm not."

"Hey, Atticus," I call out to him. He eyes me and waves. "I'm taking Jean out for ice cream."

"All right. Just remember that me and Hank got that meeting."

"Yes, sir."

Our walk to the parlor was quiet. It was the first day in a long time that the heat and humidity didn't want to kill ya. I could actually walk the few blocks without having to dry myself off with the hankerchief. Jean picked up a few dandelions from other people's lawn and blew the pollen into the air. She looked like a little girl again for a moment and it made me smile. The old neighborhood doesn't make me smile though; everything about this street I once knew was no more. At least the property that once belonged to us turned out good ice cream.

"Hi ya, Jem," Walter Cunningham, the owner, greeted us.

"Hi ya, Walter," i greeted back.

"Walter?" Jean asked while she stared at the man, puzzled.

"Don't you remember me?" Walter asked.

"No, I'm sorry."

"Jean, this is Walter Cunningham!" I say, punching her arm.

"Oh," Jean's face lit up. I knew it would kick in sooner or later who he was. "Hey. Walter."

"How are you, Scout?"

"Just fine, thanks."

"Can I have a cup of chocolate with rainbow sprinkles?"

"Sure, Jem. What about you, Scout?"

"I'll just take a cup of plain vanilla."

"I never though of you to be a vanilla person, Scout," Walter commented. Now I wait for some sarcastic remark from my sister on that one.

"Surprise, surprise," Jean replied, monotone. Mighty tame of her.

"Coming right up," Walter than said and disappeared to get our order done.

"Walter Cunningham works here?" Jean whispers.

"Work here? He runs this place!"

"No kidding."

"Your ice cream," Walter said as he handed us our dishes.

"Thank you, Walter," Jean and I say at the same time. We walk to a nearby picnic table and eat our ice cream in silence. This ice cream is so good that there is no need for words while eating it.

"How come you don't go to meetings with Atticus and Hank?" She asks me out of nowhere. Her question almost causes me to spit out what was left of my ice cream.

"Some I don't; tonight's one of them," I say into my hankerchief.

"How come? What goes on? I think it's strange you all work under the same roof but you skip out on certain meetings."

"It's a matter of principle."

"Principle?"

"They aren't worth it, Jean. Just believe me and don't worry your pretty little mind about it, all right?"

"Why are you treating me like a little kid over this?"

"I don't mean to. I just don't know why you care."

"You know me, I was always curious as to what Atticus and the law were up to."

"How come you're not a lawyer?"

"I don't think I could survive law school, to be honest."

"I think you've got the mind for it."

"Thanks."

She had left it at that and I breathed a sigh of relief. I honeslty don't know how Hank and Atticus had kept these secret meetings a secret from Scout after all this time. I don't think it's going to last much longer if I know my sister's cat- killing curiousity.

"I think I'll check it out tonight," she said. I drop my head; I knew this was coming.

"I don't think they'd like that," I say.

"I'll just peek and sneak by the window like I used to do."

"Go for it," I tell her. "Don't come bitching to me if there's something said that you didn't want to hear."

"I think I make a better judge than a lawyer."

"Don't underestimate yourself."


	7. Here With Me

After our ice cream, we went our separate ways. Jean walked to the courthouse to eavesdrop on the meeting and I went back to the house. Before she rounded the corner to the courthouse, I gave her a hug because I knew for sure that she will never feel the same after witnessing what really went on.

"What's that for?" She asked me, regarding the hug.

"Just felt like it," I said.

"Go find Sara then," she retorted.

"Fine," I said, letting her go with a smile on my face. "Run along, you ungrateful thing, you."

"Who said I'm ungrateful?"

"Bye, Jean."

"Bye."

That was all that was said and I ran back to the house. Aunty was already cleaning up the lunch dishes by the time I had arrived. I didn't think she noticed me so I started up the stairs to go to my room and take a nap. I didn't feel good all of a sudden and I began to blame it on the ice cream.

"You missed lunch," Aunty all of a sudden said. If I jumped any higher, I surely would have fallen backwards down the stairs.

"That's okay, Aunty," I replied. "Jean and I had ice cream."

"What kind of lunch is that?"

"I'm going to bed, Aunty. I don't feel good enough to have a real lunch now."

"Oh dear," I heard her run to the staircase. All I could think of is if her boobs ever gave her a black eyes when she ran. I always considered it a miracle that her cleavage never suffocated her as she bowed her head to pray during church service. "I sure hope your chest isn't giving you problems."

"No," I said, getting giddy at the one liner I'm about to drop. "Does your chest bother you?"

"Why no. Thank goodness," she said in all seriousness. She didn't get it as I figured she wouldn't. She's too easy.

"I'm glad," I say, turning my back on her. "I'm gonna go sleep it off."

"Okay, sweet," she said, finally letting me go.

My bed had never felt so good. I think of Sara as I get in it and the thought of her gets me horny. I can't wait until we're married and we have our own place with our own bed that we can do all kinds of things in. Those naughty thoughts turn into sweet dreams and I don't have a care in the world as I drift off into a deep sleep.

"Jem," I hear a woman sniffle.

"Sara, you're all right, sweet," I say as I rub her head. I wake up to realize that I was rubbing a pillow and that Sara wasn't here; I was in my room. It was twilight outside and I wondered how long I had actually been asleep for.

"Jem," I hear that same woman sniffle. You would think I would know it was my sister. I scramble out of bed and stumble to my door to find my sister in tears at my doorstep.

"What happened, sweet?" I ask as I hug her.

"You were right," she begins to sob and I run my hand through her hair. "I should have never went to that fucking meeting. Why didn't you tell me in the first place?"

"You had to learn it for yourself. I know how much you love and admire Atticus and I didn't want to be the one to tell you he was not the man you thought he was."

"Hank too?" She looked up at me in disbelief.

"Hank too."

It hurt me to see my sister crumble up and sob uncontrollably because she didn't know how to handle this. I've been there before, when you think you know someone only to realize that they weren't the gods you accounted them to be. My first heart attack happened during one of those meetings; my realization literally almost killed me. I don't consider it a coincidence either.

"How's your heart?" I ask. The last thing I need is to see my sister have a heart attack. I wouldn't wish one of those on anyone.

"It's broken, Jem."

"Are you having chest pain?"

"No, not like that. I know you had a heart attack once but..." She then looked up at me in shock. I think it finally hit her where I was when I had my heart attack. It's occuring to her that I was at a meeting, one of those, when it happened. She shoved me away as she began to cry again and her chest began to heave. "Oh my God, you almost died because of this."

"Jean, take a deep breath. You're okay; I know this hurts."

"How did you survive this?"

"I don't know."

"Am I going to surive this?"

"If I can do it, you can do it."

"Are you sure?"

"Sure of what?"

"That I'm strong enough to deal with the fact that my father and my lover have stabbed me in the back all my life."

"Well, I understand about your father but your lover..."

"Don't joke I'm serious!"

"Okay, you want serious? I'll give you serious: You don't know how strong you are until being strong is the only choice you have."

"Is that how you feel about it?"

"Jesus, Jean! I live here, I work here while you can go back to New York at any time you like. I don't like this anymore than you but I've come to accept it. I don't have to be a part of all that but Atticus still gives me the freedom of choice. You may not understand that now but you will see that he is not all the bad man you now make him out to be."

"I want to go to bed," she says, exhausted and overwhelmed. I don't blame her for feeling that way.

"Go to bed," I tell her as she walks back to her room. I breathe a heavy sigh and turn back to my own room.

"Hey," she says. I whip my head around to see her managing a smile for me. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I say, returning her smile.

"I'm happy you're still here with me."

"I'm happy I can be here for you."


	8. Every Rose Has It's Thorn

Who was I kidding? There was no way I could go back to sleep after that. It upset me that my sister was so upset. I knew this day would come but I wasn't quite prepared for her reaction even though I knew it wouldn't be good. I don't know if it was because of my heart attack or what but everything I feel about everyone has increased ten-fold. I always knew how close I was to Jean even though I never liked to show it most of the time. We have been through a lot of bullshit over the years and Lord knows this had to feel like the candles on top of the icing on top of the cake for my poor sister.

I hear the car pull up at around eight and they don't know what the fuck they just came home to. God help me because I feel pissed off and I'm ready to let shit fly. Okay, I seriously do need to calm myself because I don't want to go to prison. My heart beats faster and faster with every step they take on the front steps. They walk through the door with smiles on their faces and they don't even notice I'm sitting here.

"Oh man, O'Hanlon tonight," Hank comments. Jesus Christ, that O'Hanlon is the worst of the lot. If you ever need a good excuse to vomit all you have to do is whip out a picture of that dumb fuck.

"Barf," I say, not able to contain myself any longer.

"I actually would like to agree with you on that," Atticus chuckles. He stops once he realizes I'm not laughing.

"What's up, Jem?" Hank finally acknowledges me.

"Nothing."

"Where's Jean Louise?"

"In bed and please don't wake her up."

"This early?" Atticus asked, concerned. "Is she sick?"

"You can say that."

"That's funny," Hank piped up again. "She seemed fine at the meeting..."

"She was there?" Atticus asked, shocked now.

"You saw her?" I asked, shocked myself.

"Yeah, I waved to her when nobody was looking but I don't think she noticed."

"She didn't wave at you because she's pissed at you!"

"Me?"

"Yes, you and Atticus, too."

They both fell silent and they kind of bowed their heads in shame. Pathetic looking men they are; they both knew damn well that she would find out one of these days what they were up to.

"You two are unbelievable," I say getting up and heading back up the stairs. I could have swung around and bashed Hank's skull in when he grabbed my arm.

"What is your problem?" He asks me and I have to literally shake off the fact he asked me that.

"My problem is that the both of you hurt my sister really bad tonight. If only you were honest from the start, she would be sad for a while but she would get over it quicker."

"We love her, Jem," he said. Again, I couldn't believe my ears when he said that. I really couldn't believe that Atticus just stood behind him nodding.

"You don't love her; if you loved her you would be honest with her. The truth hurts but it's better than finding out you've been living a lie. What's the point of loving someone if you don't give them all of you? You two went from men who she considered saviors and now she has to learn to save herself from you guys."

"That'll do, Jem," Atticus said with tears in his eyes.

"No, Atticus, it won't do," I say, breaking away from Hank and going over to him. I can't believe I'm about to say this to my own father but it has to be said. "You almost lost me over the same thing. Remember my heart attack?"

"Jem, please don't," he said, taking out the hankerchief and wiping his eyes. I don't care if he's crying, this needs to be said.

"I came back though and I'm not going anywhere because I frankly don't have anywhere to go to. My life is here but Jean has a life in New York and she may not ever want to come back. You want to lose your baby?"

"No," he says with tears still rolling.

"Then tell her about it," I say, finally backing away. I hope I wasn't too harsh now. "She needs to hear your side of the story and your's too, Hank."

Hank just looked at me like I was the ghost of Christmas past. He had went white and looked spooked about what just occured. Hmmm, maybe he does love my sister more than I thought.

"Goodnight," I say as I make my way up the stairs. I don't look back because I can only stare at my sister who is standing outside her bedroom window crying. I go to her once again to give her a hug. It couldn't have been easy to hear all that.

"Thank you so much," she says, giving my cheek a kiss.

"You're not mad?" I ask, kissing her cheek now.

"No. You standing up for me just now was the best thing you've ever done for me."


	9. That's The Way I Always Heard

Going back to bed was probably the most unpleasant thing I could have done. There is no rest for the wicked or weary and I believe I am a little of both. I just layed there as I listened for the aftershocks of the bombs I just dropped. For a very long half an hour I heard nothing, not even a pin drop. I got scared that maybe I gave Atticus a heart attack this time. Maybe I gulit-tripped Hank into a suicide attempt. Who the fuck knows? The worst was running so fast through my mind that I didn't want to know.

I could have shit when I heard a motor running. I didn't even hear anyone walk out the door, footsteps down the stairs, nothing. I breathed again when it occured to me that it couldn't have been Atticus because he had his liscence taken away due to his rheumatism. Atticus Finch would never break a law; his body was falling apart, not his mind and even then I don't think he would do such a thing on his most demented days. It couldn't have been Aunty because she refused to drive after dark. It could only mean Hank was the one driving off and I still kept wondering about that possible suicide attempt...

That was when I heard footsteps come up the stairs. I could tell it was Atticus because of all the pauses he had to take to get up them. Poor guy could get passed by a kite on his bad days. I heard him turn left when he finally made it and then knocked on Jean's door.

"Scout, Scout," he repeated with every knock.

"Let him in, sweet," I whisper to myself. I don't know if she heard me or if our minds were just in sync because she opens her door a few seconds later. I held my breath for what was going to be said. Would she tell him to get lost? Would she him to go to hell? Would she crumble on top of him and tell him how much she still loved him? Nothing was said but I heard him walk in and then the door shut.

I was not missing what was about to go down. I never forgot a trick that Dill Harris himself taught me: if you take a glass and hold the bottom of it to a door with the open part of the glass to your ear, you can hear anything. There was a small bathroom connected to my room and I always kept a glass in there just in case I ever wanted water in the night. I tiptoe fast to grab it and then I sneak out the bathroom door and make a quiet as possible beeline for my sister's bedroom door.

"I just don't understand why you didn't just tell me," Jean sobbed as soon as I my ear was pressed to the glass. I didn't want to hear that.

"Tell you what, sweet?" Atticus asked, gently.

"That you didn't really believe what you always said was right."

"I do believe it, sweet. I do believe in the law and what is right and what is wrong."

"I think everything those meetings stand for is wrong. We are all people, you know: White, black, jewish, catholic, I could go on."

"Sweet, you don't seem to understand what those NAACP people are trying to do to us down here..."

"Oh, no! They want to give black people the same courtesy as we do with white people. How awful!"

Oh, those moments where you want to laugh so hard but you can't...

"That's not why, sweet. They are coming down here and putting everyone at risk..."

"Of what, Atticus? You think they are going to give every black person a whip and tell them, "See how they like it!" and let them loose on the white side of town? You think they are that willing to hurt us white folk?"

"They probably would like to see us pay, yes."

"You can't be serious!"

"Honey, all those years of opression and slavery, think about it. We have regressed them so much that it will take the same amount of years before they are near our level."

"I can't deal with this right now, Atticus."

"Why can't you?"

"Because all I want is my father back."

"Baby, I'm right here. The same man who would read with you at bedtime is the same man who is talking to you about the NAACP and why they are putting society at risk."

"This is not my father; the father I know is in there somewhere and I need to be with him. Get me a book."

"A book?"

"Yes, pick a book, any book and we'll read it together. That is the only way I'm going to get through to him."

I couldn't believe what was unfolding. I actually had to put the glass down and try to breathe easy. I have never heard her talk to Atticus like that and I never thought she would have it in her. When I put my glass back into use, I hear my sister sobbing out the words of The Federalist Papers. Jesus, of all the books Atticus picks, he chooses that one. I'm going to back to bed now because I am now the one who can't deal with this. Just when I was about to crawl back in, I saw headlights and then heard a car pull in the driveway. I go to the window to look outside and there was Hank with a bottle of alcohol in his hand. Fucking idiot; he isn't worth staying up any longer for.


	10. Blown Away

"I don't think it's a good idea to go see her."

That was what Aunty said the moment I opened my eyes again. The sun had come up and the clock read 8:04. I slept through the night and I would surely spend all day wondering how I did it. I got out of bed even though there was no need to; I had taken these next few weeks off as vacation. Atticus agreed that it would be good for me considering that Jean might kill Aunty if it were just the two of them all day everyday. I throw on a clean t-shirt and a pair of jeans; I can always shower at night time, especially if the forecast calls for a scorcher just like today.

"I want to see her though," I heard Jean say as I made my way down the stairs.

"Who do you want to see, sweet?" I asked as I rounded the corner. Aunty scowled at me as soon as she saw me.

"Jeremy," Aunty said in disgust. "Nice young men shouldn't be going out looking like that."

"Like what?" I was getting annoyed with her already.

"Like that horrible man in that picture show. You know that Streetcar one..."

"Marlon Brando?" Jean answered correctly.

"Yes, him. What a disgrace his image is to the motion picture industry."

"Aunty, you think the motion picture in of itself is a disgrace," Jean retorted.

"That's not true; there was this wonderful picture with that new lady what's her name?"

"Grace Kelly?" I tried to answer.

"No."

"Audrey Hepburn?" Jean answered.

"Yes! I thought she was wonderful with Gregory Peck."

"I like Gregory Peck," I said.

"Me too," Jean agreed. It was nice to agree on something. "Anyway, I want to go see Calpurnia."

The sound of that woman's name alone makes me cringe. Why, oh why, was my sister trying so hard to cling to her past? Didn't last night with Atticus get through to her how much things have changed? My sister was expieriencing major denial now.

"Jean, I agree that seeing Cal is not a good idea," I had to say it.

"Thank you, Jeremy."

"I don't care," Jean said getting up from the table. "I want to see her. Can I have the keys to the car, please?"

"I won't give them to you."

"So you'll drive?"

"Yes," I said. Shit; she tricked me! "I mean no."

"Hey, you're the man of your word," she said, pinching my cheek. "Let's go, sweet."

I looked at Aunty who now looked like a deer in the headlights. I just shrug my shoulders at her and follow Jean out of the kitchen.

"I wouldn't do it..." Aunty's voice followed through the house. Too bad, Aunty, we're gonna. I guess the hard way was the only my sister was ever going to learn anything. I hope my shoulder can handle the weight of her big head because guess whose there when Jean gets herself in a jam?

The car ride was as quiet as our walk yesterday afternoon. I'm beginning to not like the quiet times because they now seem to be the calm before the storm. I had to say something even if it was wrong.

"Why are we doing this?"

"Because I love Calpurnia and I want to see her. Don't you?"

"I don't think she could have made it any more clear that she doesn't want anything to do with us anymore."

"She just got scared, that's all."

"No, that's not all."

"Have you talked to her since you got out of the hospital?"

"No."

"Well, how do you know?"

"Phones work both ways, Jean."

"Who says it has to be though the telephone?"

"Jean," I said firmly as we headed for Cal's neighborhood. "I just don't need to see you get hurt again."

"She wouldn't hurt me; I'm her little baby girl, don't you remember?"

"Atticus calls you "baby", too."

That shut her up. Her nerves must have kicked in because I could see her start to shake a little as we pulled into her long driveway. I was in awe of the pitiful little house she lived in.

"There she is!" Jean said all excited as she ran out of the car. I had to peer in closer just to get a glimpse of her but there she was. I get out of the car and never let my eyes leave the sight of Calpurnia. The only thing that was more pitiful than her house was the person who lived there. For the first time, Cal looked her old age and she had pretty much wasted away to nothing. Then it hit me: She looked like a negro Mrs. Dubose; blanket and scowl and all.

"Hey, Cal," Jean said as she walked up to hug her. Cal let her but she never returned the favor.

"Hello, Jean Louise," she said. I could tell just by the way she greeted her that this was going to go as I thought which was not good.

"Look, here's Jem," Jean introduced. Cal looked at me like she had seen a ghost.

"Hello, Calpurnia," I said.

"Hello."

"How have you been?" Jean asked, her smile not leaving her face.

"Fine, thank you."

"I'm here for a visit and I though I would come by and see you."

"Why?"

"Because I love you and I wanted to see you."

"Oh."

The smile finally did run away from her face. She jumped at Cal's sharpness and indifference. Oh God, here we go.

"Calpurnia," I say, taking Jean by the hand. "I'm awfully sorry we imposed on you like this. We will be going now."

"That's all right."

That was when I began to lead Jean down the stairs. Jean wasn't ready to budge as she kept looking at Cal who in turn looked away from us.

"Hey, Cal," Jean called out for her.

"Come on," I said, literally twisting her arm.

"No," Jean said, resisting me. "I love you, Cal."

"Thank you, baby."

It broke my heart to see the look my sister flashed at me when she called her that. Why did I have to be right about this? We finally went down the stairs, down the long driveway and back to the car. Jean didn't start crying until I opened the passenger seat. As she got in the car, I saw Cal look up at the sky with a big smirk on her face.

"You are a cunt," I sneered before I climbed in behind the wheel.

"Why am I so stupid?" Jean asked me.

"Because you think with your heart and not with your head," I said as we got the hell out of there.


	11. We Are Family

Bobby Darin's Somewhere Beyond The Sea blasted on my car radio as we breezed through the rain-thirsty countryside. It's funny how I thought about how much rain we weren't getting when someone was singing about water. I'm thankful for this song; I can think about Sara and I being on the beach together. Yeah, I'll just think about Sara, keep my eyes on the road and not worry about my crying sister in the passenger seat or the unsettling feeling I have in my stomach.

"You were right," she finally spoke up.

"I'm not going to gloat and say 'I told you so'," I replied.

"You can."

"Nope. You've taken quite enough bullshit already these past few days."

"I don't know how you just stop loving someone like that. Do you think she always hated us?"

"I don't know. All I know is that I hate her now more than she could ever dare hate me."

"This is all my fault."

"No it fucking isn't! She isn't like she is because of you, she's just a cunt."

"I can't believe you just called a black woman that."

"What difference does it make? I don't care if she's black; she could be white, hell she could be fucking purple! She could be a purple cunt!"

"I don't find you at all amusing right now."

"I'm not trying to be funny! I'm trying not to give myself another heart attack by being so pissed off! Where's the aspirin?"

"I don't know. Where do you put it?"

"Sorry; in the glove compartment."

She fishes for the aspirin bottle while I come to a red light on the way into town and rub my temples. Of all the inordinate things she could have said it was that Calpurnia was a black woman. Well, duh! She gets mad at Hank and Atticus for being focued on race and then she goes and brings that up?

"Here you go," she says as she hands me two pills. "Shouldn't you have some water?"

"Probably," I reply. I never even thought about bringing water in case of an emergency like this. I didn't want to frighten her any but my chest was starting to hurt.

"Isn't there a brand new water cooler in Atticus' office?"

"You want to go see Atticus?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"I need him right now."

I turn my head away so she can't see me roll my eyes. Doesn't she get it? Her father is not the same man he was twenty years ago. She is too big to be sitting on his lap and admiring him. She is too smart to believe that he can turn a piece of shit into gold like she apparently liked to think. Maybe she would still like to think that?

"Okay, we'll go see Atticus," I say as I make a left turn. His law office was just down the street and I decided that is she wanted Atticus, I will let her see Atticus. Illusions or disillusions about the man, he was still our father. She got so excited when we parked in the lot that she got out at full speed and banged her head.

"Shit!" She muttered as she rubbed the temple that got hit.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah."

"Hey," I said as I rounded the corner to meet her. "At least you know where the aspirin is!"

"Asshole," she says to me. I wrap my arm around her and give her temple a kiss. She smiles as we walk in together like that. She and I both breathe in the fresh paint that was used a few days ago to spruce this place up. I swear this building is as old as the town itself and I'm amazed it just doesn't collapse despite itself. I feel my heart and it feels like the beating slowed down a little.

"There's the water cooler," Jean said. Jesus, I must have thought I was going to work because I had forgotten that was the reason that I came here anyway.

"Yup," I say as I grab a cup and begin to fill it.

"I'm gonna go see Atticus," she said, walking away from me.

"I'll be here."

"You aren't coming?"

"Well, I'll be there soon."

I just sat on the bench outside my office as I took my pills and watched my sister walk away. It must have been hotter in the car than I had realized because the water tasted like heaven to me.

"Hello, Jeremy," Ava greeted out of nowhere. Ava was our law secretary and she was gorgeous: black, curly hair, red lips and green eyes to match my Sara's. I think that it's a good thing that their eyes match because if I ever wanted to cheat I could just look Ava in the eyes and calm down.

"Hello, Ava. Busy today?"

"Not really. Me and Henry were just finishing up breif notes in the office."

"I see," I say as I smirk a little. I know that if Hank wasn't all over my sister he would be all over her. I've seen him break his neck trying to get a little sneak peek at her ass as she walked by. Ava also had a horrible habit of not buttoning the top three buttons of her blouse and Hank would "accidently" knock over his mug of pencils just to look down her shirt. I don't even want to know what Atticus thinks of her because that would just be creepy.

"Was that her?"

"Who?"

"Your sister; was that her that walked by?"

"Yeah."

"She seems upset."

"She's just tired," I tell her. Biggest lie I ever told. "I think I better go after her now."

"Have a good rest of your vacation, Jeremy," she says as she pats my arm and walks away from me.

"Thanks," I say. I paused just to stare at her strut. Hey, I'm a dude. I looked into the glass frame of Atticus' door and I see him there hugging my sister. She must be clinging to him crying and I have to choke down a lump in my throat. I creak the door open as Atticus kisses Scout's temple; the same one she hit getting out of the car. He spots me and extends an arm out to me.

"Come here, son," he says as I go to him. He then plants a kiss on my temple as he begins to cry. "I'm so sorry."

"About what?" I seriously want to cry myself.

"What she did to you. You are both wonderful children and I'm sorry she doesn't seem to realize that. I love you, kids."

"We love you, too," Jean and I say at the same time. I can't speak for my father or my sister but I could have stayed this way forever.


	12. Dear Future Husband

It turned out to be a nice day after all. I took Jean out to lunch at the O.K cafe where Sara worked as a waitress. I wonder if Jean remembered when Mrs. Dubose said that Sara's job would be her fate. I never did ask her that because I figured she wasn't worth mentioning. I always hope that her camelias are rotting in hell with her.

"Hey, sweets," Sara said as she stopped by our table.

"Hey," I say as I reach up and give her lips a kiss. She giggles as she watches Jean scrunch up her face.

"You and Hank are just as bad if not worse," I remind her.

"Whatever," Jean says. "How are you, Sara?"

"Fine and yourself?"

"Good."

"I can take your order now if you'd like."

"I'll have black coffee and a bear claw."

"Is that all?" I ask. "That's a bird's lunch."

"You sound like Aunty."

"I apologize," I tell her as Sara begins to giggle again. "I'll have a BLT with cheese, fries and a Coke."

"If your doctor knew..." Sara began.

"Sara, just this once."

"Okay, don't let me stop you," she said, giving my cheek a pinch with a smile.

"That's my girl," I say, giving her hand a kiss.

"Thank you," Jean told Sara.

"You're welcome," Sara said as she walked away from our table to place our orders. Jean then looked at me with concern and I just sighed because if I know my sister a question is sure to follow.

"Are you on a special diet or something?"

"He just told me to cut back on fatty foods and to stop smoking."

"When was the last time you had a cigarette?"

"The morning of."

"I'm proud of you."

"Have you been trying to quit because I haven't seen you smoke."

"I don't when you're around. I'll do it any other time."

"You know how to make a brother feel special."

"Thank you."

"Your food, my dears," Sara said as she appeared with a tray load full just for us. She hands Jean's food with a smile and a frown when it's my turn. "You better have bread and salad for dinner after this."

"You better be quiet or I won't marry you."

"Like hell," she says, turning on her heels. She was my girl all right. I was so happy about my food that I don't think I talked for the rest of the meal. That's not true; I told Jean to cut it out when she stole a few french fries from my plate. When did we become adults again. I paid the check again and when I did, I made sure I gave Sara a good smooch.

"I better get a good tip, Mister."

"That was your tip."

"You're awful," she said as she took the money with a smile.

"Are you two going to the Landing tonight?" Jean asked as soon as we were out of there.

"We weren't planning on it, why?"

"Me and Hank were gonna go tonight."

"I haven't seen you two together since before that meeting."

"He snuck in my room that night, drunk as a skunk. He told me he was sorry and he began to kiss my sweet spots..."

"Okay, okay," I say, plugging my ears. "I don't need to know that, Jean."

"Forgot who I was talking to for a minute, sorry."

"So you two are still good?"

"For now."

"The only thing that goes on and off more than you two is a light switch," I joke as we both get in the car. Jean could only seem to nod in agreement.

We headed back to the house to spend a rather lazy Monday afternoon. By the time I got home, my chest was feeling back to normal but my belly was full. I went upstairs to sleep the afternoon away while Jean just went and amused herself the best way she knew how. Hell if I knew what she did for enjoyment these days. I didn't even wake up until dinnertime and by then Hank had already picked up Jean. Aunty made roast beef and mashed potatoes for dinner and I ignored Sara's earlier advice and scarfed down my fair share. After dinner, I used some time to catch up on work that I could do from home. Like Atticus, I am no good at this whole vacation thing; him and I love our jobs too much.

"It's getting late," Atticus said, looking at his wristwatch.

"It's only nine," I said as I continued with more paperwork.

"It's only your third day of vacation," he retorted.

"I know. Sad, isn't it?"

That was when a pair of healights shown through the windows. It was Hank and Jean coming home and I noticed that they were both smiling like a couple of idiots. I prepare myself for the worst: they got engaged. Atticus just sits there and smiles back at them.

"You seem very happy tonight, sweet," he says.

"I got a present for you, Atticus," she says as she points to Hank.

"Hank is my present?" Atticus seems to confused to get it and he just sits there as he watches me drop my papers.

"We're getting married, Atticus," she says as she shows him the ring Hank had gotten for her.

"Congratulations, baby," he says as he pulls her close to him and kisses her. I hope I don't have a face that matches the emotion of sheer panic I'm experiencing...

 **A/N: I know what I'm doing. Please don't hate me or give up on me now.**


	13. Take It On The Run

This was the second night in a row that I went to bed pissed off. The only thing that could make me crack a smile after that announcement was Aunty running in the room estatic that Jean had found someone brave enough to take her on as his wife. I should win an academy award for the way I handled myself. I went up like I was happily surprised instead of sadly expecting and gave my sister a kiss while I gave Hank a high- five. Yeah, too bad I would go to jail for high-fiving him through the head with a hammer!

"I'm very happy for you two," I said. The fact that I tasted vomit in the back of my throat was not coincidental.

"Thanks, man," Hank said, slinging me into a hug. I'm sure being kicked in the balls would be the only sensation that could equal that. Looking at my smiling sister was the only thing that was helping me through this.

"You happy, sweet?" I ask her.

"Yeah," she said.

"Jean Louise, you just got engaged and the only thing you can say is 'yeah'?" Aunty asked, annoyed. I was actually glad she brought that up because it made me realize something: she probably said yes just to make him happy. That would be very unlike her though and I would hope it's not true.

"Leave her alone and just be happy she's happy," Atticus said as he pulled her into another hug. I wonder if Atticus can sense what me and Aunty are sensing. One thing I noticed about him though: his arthritis had soothed quite a bit since she's been home. I always knew how much he loved her but I think that in of itself can speak volumes.

"Congratualtions again," I say as I hug my sister again. "I'm going back to bed."

"You feeling okay? You sleep an awful lot," she said, concerned.

"I guess I just really needed this vacation," I say, patting her arm. "I'm okay. Goodnight, everyone."

"Goodnight," everyone replied to me.

No words have ever been more useless. My chest pains have returned and I figure I better go to the bathroom for more aspirin. I walk to the sink in a daze, pop the top like a champ, and gulp two more pills down with a glass of water. I look down at the glass and had a weird feeling that the glass trick could come in handy. What for? My sister seems in good spirits...hmmm...maybe I should go check on her. I think I may be taking my protective older brother role a little too seriously.

When I put the glass to the door, I immeadiately regret going through with my idea. There was thumping going on inside and I just knew they were going at it. I take the glass off the door and dry heave for about five minutes; I hope they can't hear me. My dry heaves only stop when I hear Hank say something I will never forget.

"Oh, Ava!"

What?! This was cup-worthy again.

"Who's Ava?"

"What?"

"My name is Jean not Ava. Who is she? Tell me the truth, Hank."

"Our secretary."

"That dark-haired, green-eyed thing I saw today? She must be a hard worker."

"She is but not that way."

"Can she fuck you better than I can?"

"No way!"

I lean back on the floor and silently piss myself laughing. She totally baited him and he totally took it. My sister is the trickster queen. It was all great until I heard a thud and I knew I better get out of sight because if I know my sister she is kicking him out. I squirm into Atticus' room in record time only to be horrified by the fact he was still awake.

"What are you doing, son?" He asked me, looking up from his copy of the goddamned _Federalist Papers_.

"Hank cheated on Jean and she just found out," I tell him. I couldn't lie this time.

"What?"

"With Ava Mahoney."

"Our secretary?"

"You know it," I say as he gets up. I have never seen him as red in the face as I do now. It almost scares me to think what he's capable of doing. He goes to Jean's bedroom and knocks on the door.

"Henry," his voice booms. I crawl into his bed and put my head in between my legs. I can only listen from now on.

"Yes, sir," he says, opening the door.

"You're fired," he said.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm very disappointed in you."

"Yes, sir."

"After everything I've done for you and after all the loving my baby has given you, this is how you thank us?"

"No sir."

"You've hurt us both badly."

"I know, sir."

"Get going."

"Yes, sir. Jean has already packed my things."

"Not every man that gets kicked out is that lucky. I hope you thanked her."

"Yes, sir."

"Have a good life."

"You too."

The house was silent except for Hank's footsteps. It wasn't until the door slammed shut did I hear my sister wail with sobs. I winced hard as her cries were softened by Atticus' shoulder, I swear. I close my eyes and drift off to sleep; it was Atticus' turn to comfort Jean.

 **A/N: The sucker punch of chapter 12 didn't sting very long, did it? :)**


	14. Magic Man

I woke up sweating the next day; I apparently had no idea how hot Atticus liked his room to be. As a southern man I could vouch that air conditioning is the best invention next to the telephone and the automobile. I think the television could also be joined in with those three; I do enjoy I Love Lucy and The Honeymooners. I would love to pop Hank Clinton in the kisser and send him to the moon with Alice.

I roll out of Atticus' bed when I hear the sound of what I'm sure to be bacon sizzling in a frying pan hotter than this room. I would love some of that and some fried eggs as well but first I must take a cold shower. It was the only thing that would wake me up from this brain haze I'm in and cool me down at the same time. The one thing I like about this house rather than the old house is that we actually have a shower rather than an old bathtub. I don't miss the days when I had to wash my hair in the kitchen sink before washing myself in a bathtub that was too small for me to fit in by the time I was fourteen. I don't know what it was about that tub that would make it hard to regulate temperature, either: it would freeze in two minutes in the winter and feel ready to boil in the summer.

"Jem," Atticus knocked on the door while I was in the middle of my shower.

"Yes," I reply as soap got in my mouth while I was washing my face. I wish Zest tasted as good as it smells.

"Jean is still asleep so please don't wake her for breakfast."

"Okay."

"See you down there."

"Yup."

I quickly wash and rinse the rest of myself and dry off. I wanted to see Atticus off to work and that only meant forty-five minutes. I wrap the towel around me, run my fingers through my hair and dash to my bedroom. Aunty could scuff at my t-shirt and jeans all day for all I care. I sprint down the stairs and make a beeline for the kitchen as Aunty puts a plate of bacon and eggs at my spot.

"What's your hurry, son?" Atticus asks me as he stabs his eggs with his ridculous special needs silverware.

"Just wanted to see you off," I reply.

"It's going to be busy with just me there."

"Do you want me to come back to work?"

"No, no. You enjoy your vacation. Work's been slow enough for me to handle everything."

"What are we to do about Ava?"

"I don't know..."

"Ought to be right shamed of herself," Aunty said as she clanged pots and pans around in the sink.

"You know?" I ask.

"I'm not deaf, Jeremy. I can hear everything that goes on from my bedroom."

"Uh oh," I say, involuntarily. Atticus just smirks. Then there was a knock on the door. Aunty motioned for us to stay put while she answered the door. I started to nibble on a slab of bacon as I heard her ask who the person was. I practically choked when I heard Ava Mahoney say her name.

"Oh, so you're Ava," Aunty said, haughtily.

"Let her in, Zandra," Atticus said. "It's all right, Ava."

I stayed silent and motionless when I heard them walk towards the kitchen. I couldn't believe Ava when I saw her: her hair was up in a bun and she was wearing a t-shirt and slacks. If I didn't know any better, I would say that she raided my sister's closet. Hell, my sister could have given her style tips.

"Why are you here, Ava?" Atticus asked.

"I've come here to quit, sir. I want to quit before you can fire me."

"Why did you do that?" I finally speak up.

"I'm so ashamed," she said, tears welling up her in eyes. I didn't care.

"You should be!"

"Jeremy, give her a chance," Atticus barked at me. "Why did you really come here?"

"To tell you that I didn't know about Hank and Jean."

"How did you not know?" I ask. Atticus' scowl made me shut up quick.

"I didn't know," she said, taking the seat in between us. It was my sister's seat; how appropriate of her. "Hank only ever told me that Jean was your sister and Atticus' daughter, nothing more and nothing less."

"I can't believe this," I mutter.

"Believe it, Jem. I was always lead to believe that he was single. He never spoke to me anymore about your sister than he had to. I had no idea that he had a relationship with her let alone know that he was planning on marrying her."

"How did you find out about the engagement?"

"Right after Jean kicked him out and called it off. He came crawling back to me and told me everything. I told him to get lost myself."

"You go, girl," I say, giving her arm a playful slug. I always knew I liked her.

"I don't even know where he is. Atticus, I understand if you don't want me to work with you and Jem anymore."

"No, stay," he said without hesitation. I wasn't at all surprised.

"Are you sure? What about Jean?"

"She's upstairs if you want to talk to her yourself."

"Oh, I couldn't!"

"Yes, you can. Believe me, sweet, Jean is a very forgiving and compassionate person. She will listen and understand."

"She sounds just like her father."

"Thank you," he says with a smile. It melted my heart that he was proud of the fact that someone thought of him in the same league as his daughter. "Zandra, please take Ava to Jean's room."

"Certainly," she responded. I honestly had no idea she was standing there all that time. I could only eat again as I heard them go upstairs. I smile at Atticus like an idiot all through breakfast; he is still the magic man that me and Jean always knew he was growing up. It was wonderful when Jean and Ava came down the stairs together in a friendly manner that Atticus promised. It felt wonderful to stand there with my sister as we waved my father and Ava goodbye.


	15. Forever Young

Once we knew Hank was out of the picture for good, life seemed to go back to normal; whatever that normal meant for the Finch household anyway. I'd hang out on the porch with Jean as she sunbathed and read her books. If only she knew how many looks she got from people in her bathing suit. Aunty would glare at her from the screen door while the same group of young men who ran by our house every morning would slow their pace just to catch a glimpse of my sister. I wanted to tell her how their were many more fish in the sea but I didn't dare. She seemed much more at ease single and it didn't surprise me. She always knew who she was and what she wanted out of life and being totally committed to someone would suffocate her.

I loved the nights when it was just the three of us together. I still loved to read my sports magazines but since we're in the fifties now, I read them while listening to the t.v. rather than the radio. Atticus and Jean would take turns reading the newspapers and while Jean is too big for Atticus' lap, she reckoned her legs themselves weren't. Her new favorite place to read was on the living room sofa next to Atticus with her legs draped on him. He didn't mind; I loved it when he would tickle her feet to make her laugh. It's almost sickening how cute they still are together.

It almost killed me when the day had arrived when I would have to take her to Maycomb Junction. Her train didn't leave until three o'clock which meant we would have one more morning together. While we were at the breakfast table, the doorbell rang and Aunty went to go answer it as usual.

"Good morning, Mrs. Hancock," Jim the mailman greeted.

"Good morning, Jim," she replied.

"I got a letter for Miss Jean Louise that was sent to her old address. I thought I better bring it before something done happen to it."

"Mighty thoughtful of you, Jim. I will see to it that she gets it."

"Thank you, Mrs. Hancock."

"No, thank you. Have a good day."

"You too."

"A letter for me?" Jean asked, shocked as Aunty returned with her letter. I didn't get a chance to look who sent it before Jean took it but it must be one hell of a something to make her eyes bug out like that.

"Excuse me," she said breathlessly as she left the table.

"Are you all right, baby?" Atticus asked, concerned.

"Yeah."

I wanted to speak up but I couldn't. I just looked at Atticus with probably the same look of wonder he gave me.

"You don't think it's Hank, do you?" I asked.

"I think he would know better than to do that."

"It was funny handwriting," Aunty spoke up. "It almost looked like a little girl's cursive but it was really defined."

I thought hard about what Aunty was telling me. I couldn't think of anyone that wrote like that but I do know that when Dill would write it would look almost like a chicken scratch. What if it was him? What would he say to her after so much time? My head sprang up when I heard the shower upstairs start going. I was going to go find out if it was him while she was in the shower. I excused myself and headed upstairs right for her room. On the desk was that same yellow envelope and I was surprised to see a picture of Jean as a little girl on top of the letter. Wait, was it Jean? I don't think so now because it was taken in color film and you would be hard-pressed to find anyone in Maycomb even nowadays to have access to color film.

Dear Scout,

No this is not a picture of you; it's of a little girl I met in Italy. She was playing on the front steps of a Catholic church during a wedding and I was taken aback by how much she looks like you. I don't know if she knew I even took this photo but I told her, "Bella!" That means beautiful in Italian and that is a word I could always use to describe you. I couldn't help but think about you after I met this little girl and I realized how much I love you. I love you and I doubt I will ever stop loving you. I hope you still have room in your heart to love me, too.

Your forever seven year old lover,

Dill Harris

P.S- I forgot your New York address but I'm sure Atticus will get this and forward this back to you. He's good like that. Won't you tell him and Jem I say, "Hey." I still think the world of them.

"He's still a crazy kid," Jean said, making me jump out of my skin.

"Are you in the Guinness Book of World Records for shower taking?"

"No," she scuffs, taking back her letter. "I'll write to him as soon as I get back to New York."

"Do you still love him?"

"Yeah," she smiled shyly. "I think I do."

"Don't rush."

"Who says I'm rushing? Though, how sweet it is that he took the time to send me this from halfway around the world. It makes me feel special."

"You are special."

"Go to hell," she says as she grabs her pillow from out of nowhere and throws it at me. I just laugh and throw it right back at her. She gets up with the pillow in her hands and hugs me with it.

"Are you sure you want to go back to New York?"

"Yes. New York is home; I love you guys but I'd go crazy here."

"I know."

"I'd be the female version of Boo Radley."

"I can see that happening."

"You're such a shit."

"So aren't you."

"I promise I'll be back December 14th."

"Why?"

"Your wedding, you idiot!"

"Just testing you."

"Sure," she says as she pulls away from me. We stare at each other but we don't say anything to each other. It wasn't awkward at all; when your as close with your sister as I am, you don't need to say anything.


End file.
